2) Lights

                                    

                                          
Chat Noir's POV
The moment he had transformed into his superhero persona, Chat Noir raced to the source of the scream.
                          
"Please!" He heard a woman cry as he got closer, "Please! This is all I have with me... just take it! I have a family! A daughter and a-"
                          
"If you ever want to see them again, you'll get me more money and you'll stop talking. In case you couldn't tell, I don't care much for family. I just want the dough, and maybe you'll leave with your life." A gruff voice threatened. 
                          
Chat stepped into the alleyway, baton in hand, to see not an akuma but a plain old mugger aiming a knife at the woman's throat.
                          
"Well I do care about family," the hero retorted, "and I've has a pretty cruddy day because of them, so I'm really not in the mood for this. Can we just get this over with? Go home? Get some sleep?"
                          
"C-chat Noir!" 
                          
"The one and only. Now it would be purrfect if you would step away from the pretty lady, don't make this harder than it has to be."
                          
The criminal, appearing to be incredibly brave or incredibly stupid, finally gathered his courage before responding.
                          
"If you make a move this way I'll kill her. I don't think the kitty would like that much."
                          
Chat rolled his eyes before simply extending his baton into the man's chest, flinging the knife out of his sweaty palms and leaving him on the ground.
                          
"Sorry about the inconvenience, ma'am," Chat offered the lady a hand, "why don't you head home, take a cat nap. I'll take care of this amateur." 
                          
The moment he gestured towards the incapacitated mugger, the woman began to run.
                          
Before he could register what was wrong, a sharp, cold pain over took his left shoulder.
                          
"Amateur, huh?" The man asked, standing near the blade now lodged into Chat's flesh.
                          
"Well if you were a pro," he seethed, the pain beginning to settle, "you would've aimed for the heart!" 
                          
He grunted out the final words as he kicked at the over cocky burglar, swiping his legs out from under him.
                          
"That'll knock you down a peg or two."
                          
Due to a lack of bindings and the overwhelming pain in his shoulder, Chat Noir batted him in the back of the head, just hard enough to knock him unconscious, as he dialed for the police.
                          
Let them clean this up, I have to fix my own mess.
                          
And with that, the hero was off into the night. 
- • - • - • - • - • - • -
                          
After walking for some time, Chat felt the blood leave his body. Everything was spinning, and the hard rain that had begun to fall just minutes before only blurred his vision further.
                          
I need to stop. 
                          
He felt fatigue overcome him, pull at him from all directions.
                          
I need to...sleep-
                          
It was only a light in the distance that kept him walking. Just down the street, a single glow bled through the foggy Parisian night.
                          
Is that? Marinette!
                          
The prospect of his friend being awake made him lighter, as he jumped in her direction.
                          
Going home was not an option right now, not with blood pouring from his wound.
                          
And a hospital? He didn't trust them enough to not remove his miraculous or snoop around while he was asleep.
                          
Needless to say, his predicament didn't leave many options.